He said to me, “My grace is all you need. My power is strongest when you are weak.” So, I am very happy to brag about how weak I am. Then Christ’s power can rest on me. 2 Corinthians 12: 9 (NIRV)

I have two illustrations to share that may, at first, seem to contradict one another, but hang in there with me and let’s see if we can find a point in all of this.

A short while back, I had a hankering for a bowl of fresh, hot popcorn after supper. Ken, however, went to the kitchen and made himself a chocolate sundae. We’ve learned to read each other pretty well and that sundae signaled to me that he didn’t intend to have popcorn that evening so I found some kind of unsatisfying snack, ate it, and settled in for some reading and maybe a little TV. An hour or so later, Ken went back into the kitchen and I heard cellophane rattling. He was opening a bag of microwave popcorn. I lost it and went on a tear. “How could you do this to me. I’ve already had my snack and you had a sundae. Now you’re making popcorn when I can’t eat another thing! Didn’t you know how I was craving popcorn?” I went on and on while he stood there staring at me as if I were a crazed woman and then I realized that I pretty much was. We both started laughing so hard we couldn’t stop. We spent the rest of the evening laughing and cracking jokes about how silly I was. Laughing at ourselves is really great therapy.

I probably should explain that, while Ken and I have many things in common, there is one very stark difference between us. I am a morning person, and he is a night owl, a trait he has been able to indulge since retirement. Most of the time I’m tolerant of our differing body clocks and for portions of our days, we live in our own little worlds. I eat breakfast before he gets up and by the time his breakfast is finished, I’m looking for snacks. We have two actual meals each day, one apart and one together. Our dinner is a late afternoon affair leaving a lengthy period of time to find ourselves exploring the kitchen’s resources before my bedtime. I will typically indulge in one small snack early in the evening. He, however, continues to nibble. He’s quite the snacker! He may browse all evening and eat the equivalent of a sundae and a big bowl of popcorn, but that night, he did the unthinkable and ate both his favorites. It just struck me wrong! Of course, these days COVID has taken all our plans and tossed them in the trash so there is absolutely no reason for him not to indulge his night owl habits. While I slept, he would be awake for hours still, with plenty of time to “work off” those calories. Hence, the absurd hilarity of our snacking incident.

On the flip side of this coin, I recently read a story that has popped up in several places since my first encounter. It deals with a wate

r bearer in days of old who carried two large pots to gather water each day for household use. One pot was perfect and the other had a crack down its side. The perfect pot always delivered a full load, but the cracked pot leaked half its contents every trip. After a couple of years, the cracked pot could no longer tolerate its frustration at being so imperfect and therefore cheating its master of a full ration. So, it admitted its flaw to the water bearer, who immediately put its frustration to rest. You see, he had known about the crack all along and so he had planted flower seed along the trail on the side where the cracked pot always swung. A lovely swath of blooms gave life and color to the side where the cracked pot had spilled its contents.

In examining these two stories, one might be inclined to say that my behavior was rude and uncaring while the cracked pot felt shame over its inability to perform its task as expected. I would submit that we both were flawed, but because I had been filled with love for God and for my husband, God was able to turn my flaw, or that crack in my side if you will, from frustration into laughter. The pots story speaks for itself. In both situations during a moment of weakness, God provided His own brand of perfection.

These two little tales define eloquently how God transforms all our flaws into lovely surprises that further His kingdom. Through God’s never-ending love, Ken and I were able to turn the frustration of a pandemic into laughter. Just as the imperfect pot unknowingly watered the flowers that graced the master’s table, so can we shower nourishment upon those around us. Think of yourself as a water barrel, open wide at the top to capture all that the Holy Spirit can pour into you. Don’t worry about that crack down your side. It will allow Living Water to pour itself on fertile ground that God has already sprinkled with seeds just bursting to sprout.

When He calls us to a task that we feel is beyond our limits to accomplish, we shouldn’t fear defeat. He will provide the tools and skills we need to get the job done. Who but God c

ould pull off such a magnificent miracle as that? In our weakness, He makes us the perfect vessel.

God doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called. Mark Batterson

Pray continually. 1 Thessalonians 5:17 NIV
Be still before God and wait patiently for Him. Psalm 37:7 NIV

You hear it often; we are asked to pray continually but to also be still and give God a chance to speak. I try hard to obey, but I confess, I often have so much to tell Him that I leave little time for listening. Sometimes, however, He stops me mid-sentence with a message I can’t ignore. That happened a couple of weeks ago when I heard the words, “listen for God” with a very crisp clarity. It’s easy for me to forget words and ideas if I don’t write them down but those words stayed imprinted in my mind and I had since chosen to address them in this week’s writing. Then, as often happens, last Saturday night at Focus Worship, Pastor Phil chose that very topic for discussion. That can’t be a coincidence. God really wants us to listen to what He has to say.

There are those among us who are gifted with the ability to clearly hear God’s words and occasionally, as in this case, it happens to me, but I believe that most of us receive countless little messages every day and don’t recognize them as words from God. I suggest that He doesn’t necessarily speak in the midst of our prayers as we wait, but often He speaks in the everyday busyness of life, perhaps when we least expect to hear from Him.

There was a time in my husband’s life when he was given a persistent nudge to walk across a square dance floor and speak to a very sad looking man. When he went to the man and learned of his troubles, Ken asked if the man had talked to Jesus about them. After their conversation, each man went his own way, but a few months later, they chanced to meet again, and the man told Ken that he had planned to take his own life that very night when they had talked. Instead, he turned to God and everything in his life had turned around and he was filled with hope for the future.

Not every story is so dramatic, and we often don’t know what happens when we follow God’s nudges. Sometimes we aren’t even aware that we’ve been nudged toward another person for any specific reason. Things just happen during our everyday tasks that impact others. I recall a day when I was waiting at a pharmacy to ask a question and another lady was waiting alongside me. This lady was clearly stressed and so I began a casual conversation just to relieve her mind of whatever was troubling her. She then began to tell me that she was caring for her husband who was very ill and was anxious to get back to him. Mercifully, the pharmacist brought her prescriptions quickly and she turned to leave. I told her that I hoped her husband would be better soon. She said that wouldn’t be happening. My response was simply, “then I wish you peace”. She said her thanks and for the briefest of moments a fleeting smile crossed her face, and I knew that she had been touched by the hand of God through my words. But those words were not mine, they were His. I was just the instrument He chose to deliver them. This long-ago incident was but a moment in my personal history, yet it imprinted my heart with a profound message that altered an important perspective of my spiritual life and, ever so slowly, has brought a change in my approach to prayer. I’ve never forgotten that someone found a moment of peace because I had followed a nudge from God, and by accident or His design, I began to understand the implications of keeping my heart open to hearing His still, small voice.

I like to think of His words to me as gentle nudges, little reminders that I am His and I need to help Him take care of His people. Sometimes I’m busy with something else and don’t want to take the time to do as I’m asked. And then the nudge becomes a little more obvious. Sometimes I’m really hard of hearing and he has to hit me with the proverbial 2 x 4 to get my attention! I want to believe that my listening skills are becoming more acute, but I still have many moments of selective deafness.

PS: As this writing ended, I opened a weekly inspiration email from Guideposts and was greeted with the title, “He responded to a Nudge from God”. The article told of an architect who went into a closed business in preparation to renovate for a new client. The former business was a bankrupt photo studio left as it had been on its last day of activity. Family photos lay everywhere, some with information about the clients and some without. The architect gathered his family and gained permission to take the photos in an attempt to reunite them with their subjects. As of the writing, they had been able to return 60 of 105 portraits and heard some very touching stories along the way. COVID slowed them down but they didn’t quit. They just had to alter their methods a bit to maintain safety. If you’d like to read the story, go to www.guideposts.org/bononi and click on “they matched abandoned photos”.
Nudges can happen anytime and to anyone…just open your heart.

I have often thought that this nasty virus paid us a visit, turning our lives upside down and inside out, because we needed time to slow down and, perhaps, adjust our priorities. However, it seems that, instead of looking for ways to keep positive and help others, folks are just plain tired and frustrated. Many of us are definitely running on empty when it comes to patience, tolerance and plain old common courtesy. If you don’t believe it, tune in to your favorite news channel. Better yet, don’t. You’d likely just be discouraged.

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. I Peter 5:7

Why not “channel” all that frustration and discouragement into a project or two? At our house, there is a lot to accomplish before winter seriously sets in. Ken is trying to keep ahead of the leaves. He’ll mow a few times and then finish off with the backpack mulcher. He also needs to fill some holes in the yard and dig up a bush or two. Yard work can be taxing, especially when I ask for something large to be dug, but he loves getting those last days of outdoor work in before it gets too cold. The hoses are put away and our crawl space vents have all been closed. He’s installed new smoke alarms and still needs to change furnace filters. He’s also keeping a close watch on the construction of our new Clever library branch. As a member of the board of trustees, he feels a keen responsibility toward that project, not to mention that he is naturally very curious.

Ken isn’t the only living creature who’s busy at work. Squirrels scamper constantly from tree to tree, rooftop to flowerpots, gathering acorns and storing them away for snow-covered winter days. They love to plant them in my giant pots that flank the front door. Next spring I’ll have a forest of oak trees sprouting in my pots and hungry squirrels digging frantically, looking much like little wind-up machines, in search of a hidden treat.

My part of the fall clean-up is the removal of plant debris from a collection of landscape beds. This is no small job in our yard. Everything is trimmed and bagged for disposal. Then my tools must all be cleaned and oiled before being stored away until spring When everything is trimmed back, we’ll need to add mulch in some places to keep all the roots protected during the long, cold winter. We’ll have it all bedded down by Thanksgiving.

That’s right, November is the month of thankfulness and before you say we have little to be thankful for, I have a suggestion. I have created a calendar of 31 days and plan to enter one thing that I’m thankful for each day. I may wake to a lovely surprise that will set a tone of thankfulness for my day or by evening be able to reflect on each day’s experiences to make a good choice for my gratitude. The objective is simply to find a bucketful of good things in my life and by the time I finish November, the season of Advent will have begun. All that thankfulness will prepare me to enter Advent with a loving and grateful heart. I can greet the birth of Jesus in reverence and humility. And I hope along the journey, I can find a lot more humanity around me.

When the peace of Christ rules in our hearts, thankfulness overflows. Psalm 145:18a

Many of us will be celebrating Thanksgiving differently this year so let’s get creative and find ways to share our day with those we love. Our youngest grandchild is already planning a meal at their home featuring dishes traditionally served by both her grandmothers. Their family will then add their own special touches, namely smoking the turkey, and new traditions will be born. We’ll share some Facetime and send each other photos of favorite foods. We plan to initiate a proposal to get both sets of grandparents together on Facetime with our kids and granddaughter to bless our meals and share the things that make us most grateful. It won’t be the same, but it will be wonderful if we let it. And therein lies the key to living with disappointment…be grateful for all you have, share with others and your tank will always be filled to overflowing.

Praise the Lord. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever. Psalm 106:1  

I wonder how many of us would have thought when our pandemic was declared last March that we would face November still knowing little about the virus that has, at least temporarily, changed nearly every aspect of our lives in one way or another. Yet, here we are, and with all the turmoil surrounding our daily lives, I can think of no better time to recall a few instances when an unexpected blessing has quietly affected my life even more than a pandemic ever could.

The first that I recall was a long time ago and extremely personal to me. Ken and I had merged our families, and at the time of this particular blessing, the kids were all high school students. It was my birthday and when I walked into the kitchen, I found a handmade card on the counter. I don’t really recall its contents because that wasn’t what mattered most to me. This card came from Ken’s daughter, one of our kids who really wasn’t sure she wanted me as part of her family but had taken her precious time to make something for my birthday. I’ve never forgotten that simple gesture that came to mean so much. We had lots of bumps along our road together, but she grew up and became a mom. She learned that filling that role is no easy task and I learned to respect her mama bear, no holds barred approach to motherhood. We’re friends now and I attribute the beginning of our friendship to that little card.

That same daughter has four sons and the youngest has always been nothing short of a human tornado. He never stops. As we were on a sports outing in Arkansas and our daughter wanted to visit Crystal Bridges Art Museum, Ken and I were pretty skeptical of taking our little whirlwind into such a sophisticated setting, but mama bear wanted her boy exposed to some culture, so we went. Just inside, Ken saw one of the museum guards and told Kannon (he is appropriately named) that if he misbehaved, that man would take him off to jail in a heartbeat. Kannon gave all the guards a wide berth but really started getting into the exhibits. The best reaction was to an oversized bust of a man in exquisite detail, so real looking you’d think he could speak. Kannon stood, absolutely transfixed, not moving a muscle for what must have been forever in his world. I don’t know if he remembers, but I recall that moment of pure joy like it was yesterday.

And then, on Christmas a few years ago, en route to see the SDC lights, Ken amazed Kannon with his knowledge of all things related to trivia. He stared in wonder as Grandpa answered question after question. Later that evening, Kannon and our other whirlwind crowded into Grandpa’s lap to watch videos on his iPad and would have stayed for hours had we not made them settle into bed. I treasure the photo I have of Ken enjoying those two crazy kids who never stop for anything and how much they were enjoying their grandpa. Miracles never cease!

Ken and I don’t give each other anniversary gifts. We usually go out to a restaurant that is a favorite with both of us, a place where I can have seafood and he can enjoy “real” meat. But last year, in the middle of the night before the big day, he sent me a YouTube link to one of the songs sung at our wedding. I listened to it several times that day and recalled that special day we became one family. That was a beautiful blessing.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about last year when we traveled to visit family in Texas and Florida, walked along sandy beaches, climbed mountains, witnessed nature reclaiming areas scorched by fire, camped in beautiful places all around southwest Missouri and welcomed our kids and grandkids into our home for Christmas. I believe God gave us those moments to treasure and help us through these difficult months in 2020. He loaded our memory cup to overflowing and I will be forever grateful.

So, as I think of this last year, I recall many small but mighty unexpected blessings that will influence my life as profoundly as those from the more distant past.

We were a few weeks into the pandemic when I realized I needed to thank God for my comfy bed in a comfy home with plenty to eat. I dreaded the summer heat because I feared we would try and skip our daily walk together. But we didn’t and those sunsets blazed across the sky in appreciation for our commitment to taking care of ourselves. I wonder how many times I glanced out a window and found butterflies enjoying a tasty treat from the gorgeous garden phlox in our yard. And I was finally able to identify an insect, the lovely clear-winged hummingbird moth, that I’d seen last year but couldn’t manage to photograph. Our trees this fall have certainly surprised me. I was sure the drought would diminish their parade of colors, but they have been breathtaking in their brilliance.

I can’t leave out a couple of other little surprises that really brought me joy. Our youngest daughter’s family lives in the country and their internet and cell signals are less than stellar. The phone has become so bad that we can’t talk at all and text messages often take days to arrive. But one night a few weeks ago, our daughter and granddaughter called, and their voices were crystal clear. Their server had provided a booster that was supposed to provide a better signal and it worked. We caught up with each other’s lives. Rachel told crazy kid jokes and we all roared with laughter. I made silly grandma statements that brought rounds of giggling from all of us. It was so much fun! But their phone hasn’t worked since. On my birthday they called, and we couldn’t understand each other so Rachel decided we would text. I had no faith in that plan, either, but God cleared the airwaves between us, and we spent the evening texting back and forth. She sent me a selfie with a big heart drawn around it. It was a great birthday gift.

I promise this will be the last one. Early in the pandemic, I thought it would be nice to get a texting conversation going among the wives of the church handymen. We had been going out to dinner monthly but that had stopped along with nearly everything else. We had a great time and after an absence of conversation for days or weeks, someone would pick it up and we’d be off and running again. For a while we seemed to forget, I guess we got lost in our own little worlds, but then someone picked it up again and I’m so glad because we learned that one of us had had emergency surgery and was diagnosed with COVID, another had received a cancer diagnosis and all of us were weary of isolation. Together, we were able to lift each other’s spirits and I hope we will remember to do that often. We all need the company of others, either in person or through our technology.

As I close, and I’ll not include any quotes this time except my own, perhaps the message of our pandemic is that we need to be content with simple things. Paul was content when he had much or when he had little. Last Saturday, Pastors Phil and Sarah shared in Focus Worship that we need to simplify our lives. Sarah cited an old Shaker hymn, Simple Gifts which contains the words, “Tis a gift to be simple, Tis a gift to be free…” OK, I’ve written a novel and added a quote, but it is so relevant in our current situation. Be aware of all the blessings in your life, expected or unexpected…and simplify!  

He must increase, and I must decrease. (John 3:30) CEB

He must become greater and greater, and I must become less and less. (NLT)

This is the assigned moment for him to move into the center, while I slip off to the sidelines. (MSG)

I’ve chosen to use three different versions of this scripture to hopefully define it best. The first is a simple statement while the second expands a bit. But the third translate it into terms that are more applicable to the world today. These words appear at the end of a short story told by John when his disciples complain that the other man, Jesus, is attracting a larger crowd to be baptized. And John explains that he has always told his followers that he was just a messenger for the Messiah, one who had come to the prepare the way. And then he refers to the bridegroom (Jesus) winning the bride (the church) and he, John, is the best man who stands beside the groom and shares his joy in his new bride.

I ask myself how often I am willing to step aside and give the honor of center stage to another. How often do I want to claim the credit for a job well done? I know in my heart that I can do nothing of any worth without Jesus by my side, without God and the Holy Spirit infusing my soul with thoughts and actions that mirror their love toward others. And yet, I sometimes just really want to show everyone that “I can do it all by myself”. Does that sound anything like a two-year-old you may have known in your lifetime? And how often have I foolishly insisted on doing it my way and fallen flat on my face?

I know that acknowledging this major shortcoming of mine will not make me an instant success. All our lives we’ve been encouraged to do more, be more, accomplish more. After all, that is the American recipe for success…work as hard as we can, make as much money as we can, and buy as many things as we can. But money and things alone cannot bring us true contentment. There will always be a large void in our lives if we don’t include God in our master plan. And then we must remember that His master plan may differ from ours.

I know that He is always with me, it’s been proven during a host of difficult moments and bad decisions. And I know that He will always forgive when I get that overpowering urge to forge ahead and try to leave Him behind. He’ll be there to pick me up when I fall, he’ll brush me off, give me a warm hug, pat me on the back and send me off to try again. Wouldn’t it be nice if I could just do what He asks of me before I get myself into trouble, but then He is God and I am human.

In reality, all that I can do is put one foot in front of the other like a toddler learning to walk. I can wake to prayer in the morning and fall asleep talking to Him at night, and in between, I can do my very best to study His word, step aside and let His plan fall into place, for it is His plan that is best for me and for this world. Now, if I can just get over myself and follow His lead!

  Lord Jesus, when I am tempted to claim a higher place, remind me that you weren’t ashamed to become a servant and wash my dirty feet. Ray Pritchard (Faces Around the Cross)

Throughout our 36 years of marriage, Ken and I have strengthened our love of history, the common thread that is always present in our travels. We have found that when you visit the places where locals congregate, they are always willing to share the stories of their roots. And every place has a history, no matter how large or small. You may just have to dig a little bit to find it. As I have mentioned before, I am truly drawn to water; tiny creeks, bubbling springs, tumbling streams, the big rivers, placid lakes, and the constant ebb and flow of the ocean…I love them all! And because the ocean holds such fascination for me, so then does the lighthouse.
Today’s technology can guide a 560´ Ohio-class submarine with a submerged displacement of 18,750 tons effortlessly through the ocean depths with remarkable accuracy. But what about navigation during the time when our world was being explored by those eager pioneers? The Mayflower, which carried our pilgrims from England, is estimated to have been about 90´ long with a weight of 180 tons. We can only imagine the perils they faced crossing oceans in wooden ships powered only by the wind. And when they reached shores far from home, how many ran aground or perished in the dark of night because they only had moonlight to guide them.
As eastern civilizations expanded and populations grew, farmers, traders, capitalists, and dreamers went in search of new ground and upon their arrival in this vast new world, it became obvious that a new navigational tool was needed along the meandering coastlines. The lighthouse was born and, in time, the new country was populated by a network of lighthouses along the oceans and the Great Lakes.

One of my favorites is the St. Augustine Lighthouse in Florida. It is an active, working lighthouse located on Anastasia Island and its black and white stripes identify it to everyone who is familiar with the system of markings devised so that sailors could pinpoint their location in daylight. On one of our visits to St. Augustine, Ken talked me into climbing the lighthouse stairs. Understand, please, that I am “blessed” with a fear of heights and I know I have lots of company in that regard. My fear is not severe enough to be considered acrophobia but I still get a healthy jolt when I’m more than about 10-15 feet off the ground. It has kept me from experiencing some adventures that I really would have enjoyed had I been able to overcome it. Making matters worse, this lighthouse has a spiral staircase made of beautiful open-worked steel which meant I could always see to the bottom. This did nothing to inspire my confidence but I was determined not to chicken out. At the top, my legs felt like rubber but the exhilaration I felt when we shared that phenomenal view of the city and the open water made it all worthwhile and I wouldn’t trade that moment for anything.

My imagination has explored the topic of lighthouses on several occasions and this week turned out to be perfectly timed (another of those God things) because Pastor Dennis spoke to us recently about the darkness in our world. We are surrounded by darkness everywhere we turn but we don’t have to allow fear to consume our future.

Jesus spoke to the people again, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me won’t
walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” John 8:12 CEB

We can carry the Light into our world!

There’s a Southern Gospel song, The Lighthouse, written in 1970 by Ronny Hinson, that some of you may recognize. Its words portray our choices vividly:

There’s a lighthouse on the hillside that overlooks life’s sea.
When I’m tossed it sends out a light that I might see.
And the light that shines in darkness now will safely lead me home.
If it wasn’t for the lighthouse, my ship would sail no more.

Everyone that lives around us says tear that old lighthouse down.
The big ships don’t sail this way anymore, ain’t no use in it standin’ round.
But my mind goes back to that stormy night when just in time I saw the light
With the light from that old lighthouse, that stands there on the hill.

Chorus:
And I thank God for the lighthouse, I owe my life to Him.
Jesus is the Lighthouse and from the rocks of sin,
He has shown the light around me   so that I might clearly see.
If it wasn’t for The Lighthouse (tell me) where would this ship be?

The Bible is God’s chart for you to steer by, to keep you from the bottom of the sea, and to show you
where the harbor is, and how to reach it without running on rocks or bars. Henry Ward Beecher

Southwestern Missourians are pretty good at preparedness. After all, we have an active tornado season, some really raucous thunderstorms, flash flooding to the extreme, and let’s not overlook the ice storms. Who doesn’t have a sizeable supply of bottled water, non-perishable foods, flashlights and batteries, battery radio, maybe a generator, and, of course, the weather app   of choice. We’re ready to hunker down when we hear a siren or receive a warning on our phone and we’ll be able to survive if the power is out or our home is damaged or the streets are like an ice skating rink.

Our weather was not cooperative, as is usual when we travel, and we began to think we would have to sacrifice our plans. But, on our last day there, we awoke to sunny skies and began our trek. We knew that we would probably not reach the summit because of heavy overnight snow but we would go as far as we could. By the time we arrived at the gate, 16 of the 19 miles of road to the top had been cleared and the crew was still working. So up we went and the drive was lovely. When we reached the 16-mile marker, we were told that another mile had been cleared and when we had climbed to that point, rangers said that the plows were almost to the top if we would like to wait for a short while. Of course, we did and it was all worth it when that sign telling us we had finally reached the 14,000 plus feet of the summit came into view. 

It was somewhat foggy but what we could see of the mountains was awesome! We wandered into the gift shop and restaurant for a souvenir and a bite to eat before heading back down. Altitude has a way of causing your body to relax and your head to nod. We were both feeling the effect and paying little attention to what was happening outdoors but one of us happened to look out the window and what did we see? Sleet!
Of course, our reaction was to grab our things and head down the mountain to a lower elevation and out of the nasty weather. That was probably our second mistake, the first had been our insistence on making it to the top. That sleet soon became a combination of sleet, snow, rain, and hail. Throw in lightning bolts crashing all around us and wind that we later learned was clocked at 80 mph and our little pick-up was completely wrapped in an epic mountain storm. There was no choice but to pull off the road and wait…we couldn’t see a thing. We were both terrified and clung to each other praying fervently to live through this decision of ours. Were we prepared for our consequences? Absolutely not! But the best part of our story was that God was prepared. Even though our faith wavered and became sheer terror, He wrapped us in His blanket of security.

The next day we moved on and had planned to go through the Eisenhower Tunnel and into Aspen but blizzard conditions had closed I70 and we found a cute little B & B in Leadville, just under 10,000 feet. Our room had a cozy featherbed that swallowed us in comfortable warmth overnight and the next morning at breakfast, the owners invited us to the town’s 4th of July parade. So we bundled up in many layers and mingled with the townspeople to watch that parade… in the snow, then decided it was time for a warmer destination. Come on now, it was July 4th and we were seeing blizzards! The locals took it all in stride and bragged that they never stored away their winter clothes. Those rugged mountain folks were definitely prepared for the weather.

So the question is, are we prepared for whatever lies ahead? If God is our guide,
the answer is a resounding YES!